CLAY AND WATTLES

Hysteria and Other Monday Breakdowns

This weekend we worked hard on Mama's trailer and have done 99% of the clean-up work. We left a few things in case we need them when we go back in October - forks, plates, the microwave, a card table and the vacuum cleaner.

I couldn't bear to get all the boxes out of Paul's truck last night. I couldn't find the key to the forgotten safe. I couldn't finish watching the movie I started for distraction. I couldn't go to sleep.

Needless to say, this morning, I couldn't function. My head hurts, my eyes burn. Tears have flowed or have been just beneath the surface of any thought I've had just about all day long. Emails from Bren have helped. Sher called a couple of times with well-deserved breakdowns of her own triggered by AOL and not being able to retrieve/save/email her homework where she could at least print it off for her class tonight. She called me when I was just about to walk in the door with my sack lunch from McD's and I knew immediately we were both on the verge of losing it, and we did. I went back to my truck and ate french fries, tried not to get Dr. Pepper in my nose, and gave her my shoulder to cry and shriek on while she hit CTL-ALT-DEL about a thousand times. So we cried and shrieked together. The computer dilemma was after her lock-myself-out-of-the-house dilemma. She managed to get in through a bedroom window, and with a lucky break, caught the window repair guy in the neighborhood who came and measured the window to replace it or repair it or something. With all the sobbing going on, I'm not sure exactly how that turned out.

As for myself, I did manage to get a shower and wash my hair last night. But this morning after I got to work, I thought, you look like you could be working in the garden. If we had a garden. My old brown Clark's shoes with the insoles that want to creep out the back are dusty, I'm sockless, and after a time, had no make-up. (I did put make-up on this morning; it just all got wiped off.) I did manage to get some work done today. I had a choice: stay here and take my time with myself, do what I can, what I'm able to, or go home and feel as if I need to start going through Mama's things. And I can't do that right now. Mama Nick told me two weeks ago, It doesn't have to be done all at one time. She knew. She was right. It doesn't have to be, and it can't be.

I Googled "stages of grief" and was reminded that the stages are not linear, they are not on a check-off list, they can happen any time, even years later, they can be simultaneous. Sometimes you don't even recognize them. Denial, anger, bargaining, disorganization and acceptance. Someone told Sher that the third week it really hits you. I don't know if I want to know what they told her about the fourth week, or fifth...